Marco's Monologue: Homecoming

As I peered out the window of the plane right before we touched at the Calgary airport, a small grin spread out across my face as yes I was happy but a bit conflicted that a fun and hectic one week sojourn back to Ottawa was over.

Remembering from my first trip back home, I knew being the visitor had its perks and its faults. I liked returning home and not having to clean up or really help out with anything around the house, as I was the guest not the resident. But even innocuous stuff like that had a bittersweet taste, as I was a bit sad that the place I spent over 10 years of my life was no longer my home.

It’s the nature of trips back home to reminisce and reflect but I felt like I was in a bit of an odd limbo, as I was gone for a decent stretch of time but hadn’t been gone for quiet a long enough span for me to call out at familiar Ottawa landmarks and remark ‘Oh, everything looks the same!’

But that’s the funny thing, everything did look the same and I did remember everything about the city, it’s just my reactions to the seemingly trivial details of Ottawa that changed.

I noticed it almost as soon as I got off the plane and was being driven home. One of the city buses sped across the highway and I had to stop myself from remarking to my father, ‘Hey, it’s an OC Transpo bus,’ like it was some sort of rare phenomenon.

One of the first things I did when I got home was take a walk to a busy strip in the city from my father’s place. I passed through a row of silent government buildings near a cross section with one of the biggest highways in the city and I paused to take in my surroundings. I had made this walk countless times before and there was nothing spectacular about the sullen brick facades of the buildings. But that’s why I stopped, they were big and imposing but more importantly they were so familiar, I felt like they were an extension of what I saw as home.

I did this numerous times throughout my stay in Ottawa and I felt oddly calmed by the skyscrapers and mega malls. I took me awhile to understand but as I was talking to my friends and family I began to get it.

Every time I go back here I’m sure the number of my friends free to see me will drop, it’s inevitable; people move on. Not so much for family but what’s to say some of them may move on past Ottawa?

But the gently weaving Rideau Canal and the magnificent edifice of Parliament will also remain, grounded into the fertile terrain of the Ottawa Valley.

As long as they remain and the countless other buildings, waterways and paths that dominate my memories of the city stand strong, Ottawa will always be home and I will always be able to come back,